Page 120 of When We Were Reckless
She was right, of course. I didn’t need Jesse to make my wishes come true. Not all of them, anyway. This was something I could do for myself. My California dream was my own too, and I didn’t need him for that either. I’d go to college, and I would do everything I’d set out to do. I wouldn’t let myself think about whatever Jesse and Alessia were doing right now. She was grieving her mother, so of course, he would be there for her. And by the time he got back, he’d only have enough time to pack up his house and leave.
So this thing, whatever we’d been doing, was about to end, and I needed to face that.
With a new resolve, I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
She smiled. “On the count of three,” she said as we stood on the edge of the cliff, preparing to take a leap of faith. “One… two… three.”
And I did it. I dove off the cliff with my best friend right beside me.
We flew so high it felt like we could almost touch the sun.
But as everyone knows, what goes up must come down.
Chapter Forty
Jesse
I’m notsure how I expected to feel when I came face to face with Alessia again.
I hadn’t come to San Diego for her.
I came to pay my respects to a woman who had treated me like a son.
Last year when I was in the hospital with two broken vertebrae, Gina visited me. She brought flowers from her garden, and she brought cannoli. Enough for all the nurses who were working that shift. The next day she brought lasagna. The nurses loved Gina Rossi. So did I.
When I told her that Alessia and I had called it quits, she was so heartbroken that I didn’t have the heart to tell her why. So instead, I told her that Alessia and I wanted different things in life.
Gina called me a few times this summer but only left a voice mail once. She’d called because she knew she was dying. The doctors had only given her a few weeks to live. Not that she’d mentioned that in her voice mail. Gina wouldn’t do something like that. She would never have guilted me into returning her call. Instead, she told me she loved me and still thought of me often. She hoped I was happy.
It killed me that I hadn’t returned her calls, but it was too late now. She was gone and today was her funeral.
Last night, while I was sitting on the balcony of my hotel watching the lights shine off the bay, my mother called. She told me this would be a good opportunity to get closure. I didn’t think I really needed closure. Alessia had fucked me over. What more was there to say that hadn’t already been said?
At the funeral, Alessia sat in the front pew with her family—uncles and aunts and cousins—and I slid into a back pew undetected. The service was long, the church uncomfortably warm, and it smelled like incense and lilies. The eternal California sunshine streamed through the stained-glass windows as family and friends shared stories about Gina’s life.
Afterward, I stood under a tree in the cemetery, a short distance away from the group gathered around the casket as it was lowered into the ground, and the priest gave the final blessing.
I considered leaving without speaking to Alessia. I owed her nothing, and yet, I stayed where I was, under the tree. The sky behind her was brilliant blue and cloudless as she walked toward me in a tight black dress that skimmed her thighs and stopped just above the knee. Sexy but tasteful.
Black sunglasses covered her eyes, and her lips were painted red. When she stopped in front of me, I shoved my hands in the pockets of my dark suit pants. She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and smoothed her hands over the skirt of her dress.
“Jesse,” she whispered. She was nervous. I could tell by the way her hands shook and her lip trembled. “I…” Her eyes lowered to the ground. “Thank you for coming.”
“I told you I’d be here.”
“I wasn’t sure you would.” She lifted her eyes, but they didn’t meet mine. Instead, she stared into the distance, her eyes unfocused. “I wouldn’t blame you if you hadn’t.” She smiled, but it was a sad smile, befitting the occasion. “She loved you so much.”
I nodded once. “I loved her too.”
“I know you did.”
“I’m sorry about your mom.” I could say this with complete sincerity. I was sorry that Gina was gone, and I was sorry that Alessia had lost her only real parent at the age of twenty-five. It was entirely separate from everything that had gone down with us.
“Thank you.” She wrung her hands. “I’m sorry… about everything. I loved you so much, Jesse. I still do.” She lifted her eyes, and her browns met my blues. “I look at you now… and all I see is everything I lost. You’re just… you’re so beautiful, Jesse.”
I used to tell her the same thing. I’d always told her how beautiful she was. I’d always told her how much I loved her too. But it hadn’t been enough.
“If you… if you give me one more chance, I know we can find a way to make it work.”
